Snow Raven by McAllister Patricia

Author:McAllister, Patricia [McAllister, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

MERRY SAT CURLED UP in a chair before the blazing hearth in Auchmull’s great hall, trying to occupy herself with finishing the embroidery on a wall hanging depicting a tower with battlements under the Crown of Scotland. Her English contemporaries would no doubt consider such work treasonous, but then those little goose-brains were not enduring the same circumstances as she, and, furthermore, Merry no longer cared what anyone thought of her actions. Especially since she had watched Sir Jasper and his men ride off the previous eve, her emotions a mixture of relief and dismay. So in the end, Sir Jasper had abandoned her to her fate, a fate come about only because of his own actions. Courage was only a title in the Wickham tradition, and Merry was admittedly embittered.

She had no notion what might happen now, save the fact her reputation was certainly destroyed and she could never return to Court. Her family would not reject her, she knew, but the notion of returning to Ireland and suffering the mingled pity and outrage of the entire O’Neill clan was not a pleasant one. She supposed Uncle Kit and Aunt Isobel would permit her to live at Ambergate for a time, and she did have a dower house property in Kent, though she assumed it was likely uninhabitable after long years unoccupied.

Without a sterling reputation, a woman could not hope to secure a good marriage. At most, Merry might be accepted by one of the O’Neill vassals or lesser men in Ireland who did not know of her disgrace. Or a man with title but no funds, whom her father could pay to ease the burden of the shame she brought. She shuddered at the thought, stabbing her needle through the fine silk and leaving a slightly larger hole than was wise. She looked at the flawless rows of stitches preceding her own and sighed. Naturally, Blair Lindsay had been an exquisite seamstress, too. Was there nothing the little paragon of virtue had not accomplished to perfection?

Merry heard footsteps and glanced up, still frowning over her work. Gilbert Lindsay laughed at her dour expression.

“I take it you are not fond of the gentler arts?” the young man inquired as he vaulted neatly over the couch facing her and landed there with a thud. Merry could not suppress a laugh, especially when he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“You are a knave, Gil,” she rebuked him playfully, then bit off the length of dangling silk thread and tied it. “I wonder I ever agreed to introduce you at Court.”

“Because y’know the fair maidens will swoon, and you are anxious to impress upon Her Grace as well,” he countered with a twinkle.

Merry laughed. “Indeed, and I should be accounted very foolish if I rested the remnants of my reputation upon your roguish character. La, Gil, but you are a wicked one who would surely add to the great heap of guilt upon my shoulders in light of circumstances here.”

“Guilt? How now, when you cannot be held accountable for Ran’s actions,” he cried.

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